


Counter

by Rin_the_Shadow



Series: To Turn Spark [16]
Category: Transformers (Unicron Trilogy), Transformers: Armada
Genre: AU to Transformers Armada, Allusions to PTSD, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autobot strategy meeting, Gen, Some canon compliance, attempts to relate, contains elements from the episode "Crisis", discussion of pre/post-War Cybertron, struggling to determine what the right thing to do would be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-07 07:12:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18405722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rin_the_Shadow/pseuds/Rin_the_Shadow
Summary: As attempts to plan their response get heated, Hoist steps out for a moment. He's not the only one it's too much for. Maybe they've got a bit more in common than he'd previously thought?





	Counter

The Autobots had seen the comet’s explosion. Even if they hadn’t, the kids would have brought it to their attention when they arrived the next day. The question now was what they were going to do about it, if there was even anything they _could_ do.

They had warped Jetfire up near where the shot had come from to see if there was any means of countering the weapon—or better yet, taking down the ship before it could recharge. Red Alert had given him a strict warning not to overextend his thrusters, especially with the possibility of battle looming before them. Jetfire had found a massive forcefield surrounding the ship. Thus far, he had been unable to break it.

Optimus Prime was quick to realize the best option they had was to return to Cybertron, draw Megatron’s attention away from Earth. It would upset the kids, but he would much rather they suffer that loss and go on to see another day. It hadn’t been right to bring the fighting to Earth in the first place, although the Decepticon pursuit of the Mini-Cons hadn’t left them with many options. There was a possibility Megatron would want to continue searching the Earth for additional Mini-Cons, but with his main adversaries no longer on the planet, he would have no reason to turn his new weapon against it. They could always liberate the remaining prisoners after Megatron had followed them away from the Earth—not that it would be easy.

Unfortunately, they could not follow through with this plan. Despite the progress they had made on it, the _Axalon_ was not yet ready for space travel, and Red Alert had confirmed that something had happened to the warp gate on Cybertron. Its signal had been weak for months, finally disappearing entirely only a few weeks ago.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if Tidal Wave had something to do with that,” Blurr noted. He’d looked at Starscream almost like he expected him to confirm it, but Starscream only scowled in response. “Came late, times line up,” he shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“Regardless,” Optimus continued. “We’ve got to come up with a countermeasure before the Earth becomes a target. The way Megatron thinks, he’ll see the new weapon as a means of ending the war quickly. He may have calculated the risk, but if it’s in the way of his ultimate goals—”

Hot Shot let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl. “This is why we should have gone after the Decepticons before! Now they’ve got the ultimate weapon and we’re—we’re—”

“Hot Shot,” Scavenger warned. “You know we weren’t in any condition to—”

“No!” he insisted. “Red Alert checked us all when we got back! None of us were that banged up! We could’ve made it work if—”

“Perhaps we could have, Hot Shot,” Optimus spoke evenly. “But although no one was seriously injured, I could see the effect that battle had on everyone mentally. We would not have been able to make a successful attempt in that moment.”

Hoist saw several of the others look somber, whether because they had been some of those hit hardest, or, like Jetfire, because they had seen what happened to some of the others. Hoist himself felt a pang as he remembered Downshift, Mirage, and Dirt Boss. They must’ve been scared out of their wits. If only he had done more to protect them then. It was Astroscope, Payload, and Sky Blast all over again. In some ways, though, it was worse. That first time, he had at least been able to fight to try and stop it.

“I still think we should have done _something_! There had to be at least two of us who could have done it!” Hot Shot countered. He was arguing for argument’s sake at this point, stressed out and feeling like he should have done more. He reminded him so much of his time as Smokescreen, throwing himself at a wall he had no way of knocking down.

He excused himself from the room, feeling the discussion becoming too much for him. He’d rejoin once he had managed to center himself. This kind of thing happened from time to time. He’d learned that if he just took a moment, he could usually shrug it off pretty quick. Didn’t stop him from feeling bad about it. Maybe that would go away with time, too.

But it looked like he wasn’t the only one who needed to step out. As the door clicked shut, he turned to see red and white trying to shift away before he could notice.

Well, there was no sense in pretending he hadn’t seen him. “Bit much for you too, huh?” he offered easily.

Starscream glared before responding. “Red Alert made me leave. I didn’t need it.”

Hoist gave a grunt of amusement, restraining himself from outright telling him what a load that was. He was visibly tense and refusing to look straight at him. There were still a lot of things with Starscream that the Autobots had a hard time reading, but there were very few left who couldn’t figure out what agitation looked like.

Not that Starscream had much more difficulty picking up on the sounds other ‘bots made. At Hoist’s grunt, he turned and fixed him with a glower before brushing past him.

Hoist waved a hand to brush it off. “Hey, I don’t mean anything by it.”

Starscream paused. Hoist didn’t need to see his expression to know the silent question. _Then why did you say it?_ He continued. “Just thought, both of us have lost Mini-Con teams before. It gets to you, y’know?”

He turned at that, shooting an annoyed look. Clearly, he _had_ meant something if he could think of that so quickly.

Hoist felt his easy grin begin to falter. He’d never been great at dealing with other bots’ moods before, preferring to mitigate the conflict when he could, and find something practical to deal with when he couldn’t. That wasn’t an option right now, with the rest of the Autobots in on a meeting and all projects stalled for the duration of it.

“So you meant something, but you didn’t mean anything,” Starscream pressed, frame rigid even as a familiar confrontational edge crept into his voice.

The Autobot stifled a laugh at that. “Don’t make a lot of sense, huh? But in my defense, I was a construction worker, not a medic.”

That really wasn’t quite it either. But he wasn’t quite sure how to explain what he’d meant without Starscream snapping that he didn’t need a step-by-step walkthrough. Especially when he wasn’t sure of the best wording himself.

The seeker seemed like he wanted to ask something about that, maybe make a comment. But after a moment, he accepted his explanation with a small, “Heh…”

Ah, _now_ he was starting to get it. If he just took a moment, he could usually figure it out. “You were close to—”

“And do you think you’ll return to it after—?” Starscream spoke up, overlapping him, then stopped himself once he realized.

Hoist shook his head. “Go ahead,” he said, relieved to have a bit longer to phrase what he’d meant to say. Starscream’s helm tilted the slightest bit at that.

“Do you think you’ll return to it after the war?” he repeated. “If you—” He stopped, deciding it was better to leave it unspoken. “Construction work, I mean.”

Huh. That was a surprise. In his few interactions with him, Starscream had never shown any interest in “after the war,” even when the topic came up. Or “before the war,” for that matter. To be honest, Hoist wasn’t sure if he knew there was ever a time that there wasn’t the war.

“I don’t see why not. Cybertron’s bound to need some rebuilding, after all.” He shrugged.

“Hmm…” Starscream pondered, his helm shadowing his facial expression.

Hoist watched him for a moment, wondering if he’d follow it with anything else. When he didn’t, Hoist followed up. “You got plans for after the war?”

Initially, he started like he had something to snap with. Then he shook his head, growling slightly and biting back his answer as he turned to move down the hall a ways away from him.

Even Hoist could guess what that meant. “Fair enough,” he said. “’Bots your age tend to need a little more time to think on that kinda thing.”

The second the words were out of his mouth, Hoist knew he’d made a mistake. Starscream stopped, suddenly rigid, digits clenched as he ran a venting protocol. Then he rounded back.

“I don’t need your sympathy, _Autobot_. Just because I don’t have the same years behind me as you, it doesn’t mean I can’t—”

“Woah! Woah,” Hoist backed up, holding out his hands. “Just meant that it’s normal. You don’t have to know right now, that’s all.”

That stopped his advance, but he could still see the tension as the seeker struggled to make sense of that, finally settling on fixing him with a look that screamed with about a million different quips and accusations. Clearly, he didn’t trust what Hoist had just said. Something just wasn’t right about that. And his age being a sore point? Even without the years of training like Red Alert had, Hoist could guess where that came from. It just wasn’t right.

He must have had a look on his face, because Starscream’s expression grew increasingly annoyed the longer he thought about it. Hoist shrugged and moved to lean against the wall.

They stood in silence for awhile before Hoist remembered what he was originally going to say before Starscream had spoken the first time. Though he had a better idea of how to say it now.

“You know,” the seeker’s head turned as Hoist spoke. “It hit me pretty hard, losing the Mini-Cons back then, and this time wasn’t much easier. I noticed you were pretty close with the little guys yourself. If you ever want to talk about it—”

“I don’t.” His response was firm, but his voice took on a strained edge.

“Fair enough,” Hoist continued. “If you change your mind, the offer still stands.”

For a split second, he stood up to his full height, a dangerous flash in his eye. He’d seen that look. Was there really no way to avoid an argument? But at the last moment, he changed his mind and turned away. “I’m going back inside. I’ve wasted enough time here.”

He pressed on the panel to open the door. With a sigh, Hoist followed. He would have preferred to have a few more minutes, but the longer he stayed out, the more he had to catch up on. Besides, this way, he could keep an eye on the kid, make sure he was holding up okay.

What he did not expect was to walk in and find everyone sporting somber expressions, many of them refusing to look at each other. Sideswipe fidgeted with the joints of his digits, constantly glancing between Scavenger, Blurr, Optimus, and Hot Shot. Blurr stood stiff, a ways apart from everyone else, and Scavenger looked to his leader and former student with an unreadable expression. Hoist felt his tanks freezing—he knew those two better than most, and sure, he wasn’t the best at reading everyone, but he could tell when something was _very wrong_. Hot Shot clenched his fists, his helm shading his expression in a near perfect mimicry of Starscream. Red Alert had pulled a data pad at some point, and was rapidly punching in some kind of notes. Jetfire stood tall, one hand propped against his hip joint, and Optimus stood firm, but looked resigned.

Hoist had put it together first, but it was Starscream who spoke. “Is something wrong?”

Just like that, he was right back where he’d been when he was sent out. But if Optimus noticed, he didn’t comment on it. “Jetfire and I are going to intercept the Decepticon’s ship. We’ll prevent them from launching an attack against the Earth.”

“With our combined firepower, we’ll take them apart in seconds,” Jetfire quipped.

Something shifted, but standing behind him, Hoist couldn’t see what. “I’m coming, too. You’ll need someone to hold them off while you do, and with Swindle, I can use my null cannons to provide—”

“I appreciate the offer, Starscream, but I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to remain at the base.”

This time, there was no missing the snap. “But sir, that’s suicide! There’s no way the two of you alone can take on a weapon like that!”

“Look, you saw what that thing did. We need as few targets up there as possible if things go south,” Jetfire cut in. “So unless you can Powerlink like Optimus and me, it’s a no-go.”

That settled it, Hoist was sure. It was almost unheard of for Autobots to combine with anyone but the Mini-Cons. A triple-combiner was practically science fiction. Starscream wouldn’t be able to argue with that. He wouldn’t want to admit he didn’t have the ability—he’d see it as a weakness—and he couldn’t continue without conceding the point.

“If you’ve only got one target, Megatron will concentrate all his firepower on it! You’ll be easy to occupy! I can’t Powerlink—” Even from where Hoist was standing, he could see what it cost him to admit it. “—but I _am_ the only other flier you have, and knowing Megatron, I’ll be enough of a target to draw them away—”

“And that’s exactly why I can’t let you come on this mission,” Optimus continued. “The kids will be getting here soon. In the event that we fail, what would happen to them? As our only other flier, you’re the only one who might have a chance of getting them out in time. Can you look after them for me?”

The seeker shifted, clearly not buying it.

“Can you do that?” Optimus repeated, firmer.

Hoist saw his fist tighten, hearing the low growl as he bit back all the barbs he would have had for anyone else.

He looked away, and Optimus sighed almost inaudibly. “Jetfire, head to the Warp Chamber. Red Alert, set the launch point to get us in as close to that ship as you can. We don’t have any time to waste.”

Red Alert nodded and rushed out. Jetfire gave a casual shrug. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Even Hoist could tell he didn’t fully believe it. But no one spoke up, and he was off at Optimus Prime’s right hand.

Hot Shot stood stock still a moment longer, then turned and bolted after them. Seconds later, Starscream gave another low growl and stormed off in the opposite direction.

Hoist started to follow, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. Twisting to look back over it, he saw Scavenger giving him a resigned smile, and he shook his head. “You can’t help this one, old friend,” he almost whispered. “Just let them ride it out.”

They were both just too much like him, back when he was Smokescreen. And yet, he wished he could find it in him to argue.

* * *

Hot Shot ran until he could barely see the corridors. He had to get to the Warp Chamber before they took off, he just _had_ to! He didn’t know what more he could say or what more he could do. He just knew he had to get there before they left.

When he arrived, he almost thought he’d missed them, and he sighed in frustration before he heard their voices, though he didn’t understand the words.

He stood up a little taller. “Optimus, sir—” He didn’t know what he was going to say. He guessed he thought he’d know when he got there, but the words weren’t coming. He knew what he should say, that he should apologize for getting so upset earlier. But he found he couldn’t do that just yet. Because, as much as he knew Optimus was right…he still didn’t think _he_ was wrong. They could have done more to stop it from getting to this point. They _should_ have.

But Optimus seemed to understand this, quietly saying something to Jetfire before approaching the younger Autobot.

“Hot Shot,” he spoke evenly. “I understand your frustrations. I’m sure it doesn’t seem like it at the moment, but I still believe the decisions I made were for the best. Things will work out in the end. I’m sure of it.”

He knew he should have something to say to that. Scrap, _any_ of the others would have had something to say to that. But his jaw only worked uselessly, his vocalizer failing yet again.

He was vaguely aware of Optimus’s chest plates shifting, but he barely registered what that meant before his leader spoke again. “This was a gift from the original Transformers. It’s called the Matrix of Leadership.”

It was only then that he noticed the shape in Optimus’s hands, the glowing orb encased in a metal sphere, the square handle wrapping around either side of it. He knew a little about it, that apparently, it made the ultimate choice in who would lead the Autobots, and it guided the current leader. Did it always speak for who would lead, or was that only in extraordinary moments?

He snapped back to the present moment when Optimus finished with, “I want you to hold onto it for me.”

“S-sir, I—!” C’mon, vocalizer, _work_! “I can’t accept that, sir.” It was too big a responsibility for such a young ‘bot, especially one who’d screwed up as bad as he’d been doing lately. It felt wrong to accept it when he couldn't bring himself to agree with his decisions.

So then why, when he saw Optimus place it back within his chest cavity and close his armor, did he feel like he’d answered wrong?

“I understand. It’s your choice, Hot Shot.” If his leader was disappointed in him, his tone carried no trace of it. “Jetfire, let’s warp out.”

“Right behind you, sir!”

He knew they were transforming into Jet Optimus, even if his optics failed to register it. He heard the sound of technology humming and whirring, felt the energy of the warp gate opening, and then just like that, they were gone.

A shock raced through him and he reached out. But it was too late. They were already gone.


End file.
